


and Pigalle I think is no parenthesis

by tomato_greens



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, M/M, Sex Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-04
Updated: 2011-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-24 07:56:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomato_greens/pseuds/tomato_greens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six people, one city.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and Pigalle I think is no parenthesis

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure self-indulgence: I currently live in [Pigalle](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quartier_Pigalle"") (Paris's red light district!) and I wanted to put Inception characters there! I forgot Fischer but let's assume he's chillaxin' in one of the ridiculously named clubs, sippin' on something and thinking about a very special type of security. Thank you E.E. Cummings for the title.

1.  
"I'll admit, [it's](http://www.flickr.com/photos/aaroscape/2472391291/) certainly impressive," Eames concedes, "but not nearly as impressive as my––"

Arthur kisses him quiet, then leads him, uncharacteristically docile, to his favorite of the antiquarian booksellers down the road.

(Later they fuck in the métro, but at least no one's there to hear them. Probably. God, Eames is so embarrassing.)

 

2.  
...anyway, Saito doesn't have time for romance, and he's not going to ask his wife to leave her newest lover simply to fulfill his baser desires (he's never been that kind of man, and he loves her too much, still), so if he slips out of his hotel for a night time walk to clear his head, _well_...

 

3.  
Of course she likes going out, but she usually manages to slip away, and there, right there, that's her favorite part of Paris: not the lights or the wine or even the architecture (because Ariadne is, after all, more than her work, though even she forgets it sometimes), but the night wind on her neck and the memory of Bordeaux staining her teeth, watching people's shoes leave their faint impressions on the sidewalks or the cobblestones, hands in hands, the stars above.

 

4.  
Mal had loved the nearly-nameless two-bench parks tucked into the city's negative spaces, fit between the points of ancient courtyards, and the geraniums crammed onto windowsills; Dom doesn't look up or around corners anymore, except to check, reflexively, for a cocked gun or an angry projection (a habit he can't seem to get rid of no matter how long it's been since the last time, since he came home to art projects and grocery lists and a tangle of tiny, fragile shoes next to the front door).

 

5.  
Yusuf's first time was with a professional, which isn't something he's ever told anybody but the professional. She was younger than him (he had been twenty and shy) and had coffee-colored skin that he found beautiful, although her hair was a little dirty and her mascara had smeared in the crease between eye and cheek. She had laughed a lot, not unkindly. That's mostly what he remembered about it.

"Do you like it?" he had asked in his imperfect French. "This job?"

She'd shrugged. "It pays for what I need," she answered.

 

6.  
––the Paris of her dreams isn't quite––but who needs dreams anyway they seem to ruin––(and yet how could she live without dreams? without them she has nothing)––her feet are too cold to be anything but––Victor Massé's row of shops isn't––Dom's face––she wishes––but the Paris of her dreams isn't quite what she––falling was never so––

 

7.  
"Mostly I do it to annoy you," Eames says.

"I am well aware," Arthur answers, looking up at the tawdry [windmill](http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-photo/ebmeyer/1/1293116383/the-moulin-rouge-in-daytime.jpg/tpod.html), its shadow purple and sullen as the sun starts to set.

"But also because I love you," he admits, which is surprisingly difficult for how often he says it.

"Well, when you put it that way," Arthur says, and takes his hand.

(They fuck in the métro again. He has all the best ideas.)


End file.
